


Whisky Tales - Spa

by BurntWhisky1



Series: Whisky Tales [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Play, Group Sex, Multi, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurntWhisky1/pseuds/BurntWhisky1
Summary: Dean loses at rock, paper, scissors. Penalty - a day at the Spa. It's not as unpleasant as he feared when some of the ladies decide to give him some special treatment.A series of one shots, each featuring a Winchester.





	

**Author's Note:**

> They are not mine. They never will be, only in my dreams. I won't be making any cash or gaining any fame. I'm borrowing them for your entertainment, and mine!  
> All rights belong to Kripke, CW and anyone else who has official ownership.

Dean is not happy. A rare day off turns bad the minute his brother wins at rock, paper, scissors, giving him winner's choice. Which is how he, Dean Winchester, ends up parked outside a health spa.

"I'm not going in there to get infected with touchy feely crap." His voice is a disgruntled growl, already holding notes of defeat. Some crazy, old fashioned honor shit means he has to play along with the winner's choice. You stop doing stuff like that and next thing the world stops turning or something. All things considered, they've done enough in that department already.

Sam is very happy. A day of relaxation, massage and tranquillity is ahead. And Dean has to come along too, which elevates the whole thing from pleasant right up to A-grade entertainment.

"It'll do you good," he says kindly. "You need to de-stress dude."

"De-stress!" Dean snorts at him. "I'm gonna hate it." He slams out of the Impala. "Let's get this done."

Sam catches up with him at the entrance and gently moves him aside.

"Dude, breathe. It's gonna be okay." He points at the revolving door. "The spa experience starts right here, with this door to tranquility."

Dean stares at him, his expression strongly suggests he believes Sam reads far too many promotional leaflets.

"The door," Sam continues, "…is symbolic of a transition from the stresses of the world to tranquil peace." He glides forward, the doorway revolves slowly and he disappears into the dimly lit interior.

Never one to let his brother tackle the unknown alone, Dean follows. The door swallows him, shuffling him forwards. He really wants to give it a shove to speed it up, but he knows that will upset Sam, so he grinds his teeth and keeps going until it ejects him into a pastel glow fragranced with sandalwood.

Sam is already busy, signing himself up for meditation, yoga, zen-chanting and aura therapy. He casts a sidelong glance at his brother and puts Dean down for massages, aromatherapy and a session in the Jacuzzi. He then promptly disappears, leaving Dean to be whisked off by a small, elderly Asian lady clad in a green clinical outfit who shows him into a curtained cubicle and leaves him alone.

Dean is still unhappy. He has no objection to removing his clothing, in the right company. After all he has nothing to be ashamed of and quite a lot to be proud of, but random stripping in a cubicle is a different matter.

In the end the combination of the tropical heat, wafts of fragrant oil and new age music lull him enough to accept that perhaps a massage might help soothe some of his aches and pains. He undresses, folds his clothes and panics a little when he realises there is nowhere he can conceal his knife under the soft robe. He has a good swig of whiskey out of his hip flask to shore up his courage and heads out into the unknown.

Once outside the cubicle he is ushered into a treatment room and at last the day starts looking up. The masseuse, Rachael, is a nubile beauty, all pale, creamy skin, huge hazel eyes and tangles of red hair. Her outfit is also clinical in style, but it hugs every curve and the buttons are undone to the point where Dean cannot quite keep his eyes on her face, attractive though it is.

She is calm, the music is relaxing and before he knows it Dean is face down on the couch, robe removed and replaced by a strip of towelling. He feels a little vulnerable, for about four seconds, and then he just feels blissful. That girl knows how to give a massage and for thirty minutes he is floating in a pain free cloud. She chats to him; he flirts, easily slipping on his most cheeky grin and giving her eye contact through his long lashes.

At some point the rhythm and pressure of her hands change as they slide smoothly over the ripples of his ribs, glide over the muscles of his back and down his legs. He knows she wants him and it's not long after that she ends up with her top undone and he's popping her breasts free and finding out how nice they feel when he massages fragranced oil into them.

They kiss, long and slow and he's just sliding his finger over the top of her g-string when she pulls away a little.

"We have an arrangement," she purrs, running a manicured nail along his full bottom lip. "My friends… we get a 'nice' customer and we share… if he's interested of course?" She looks at him from under her lashes, mouth open just a little. Dean is interested, he is very interested and from the look of the tent in his towel, little Dean is even more interested.

"My turn first though," she whispers, flicking the towel away and lowering her mouth onto him. It's obvious massaging isn't her only skill. It's awesome and Dean loses his breath a little, pushing his hips up as she sucks and licks at him. She pushes him back when he goes to get up, telling him it's his treat this time, so he's more than ready when she straddles him and lets him slip gradually inside. It's hot and tight and his muscles bunch beneath his skin as he rolls his hips up, pulling her down hard onto him. The massage has been a long tease for them both and it's not long before she's panting and crying out. He helps her along, rubbing at her in time with his thrusts and suddenly she's gasping and shuddering. He can't hold it any longer either and comes in an explosive rush. He's not worried. He's Dean Winchester and it doesn't take him long to be ready again.

He's barely caught his breath when a tiny, fragile beauty appears. Thai Yoga Massage expert Kara, her long dark hair tied up in a huge and elaborate tangle, slides sinuously into his arms and suddenly Dean is keen to find out more about Thai Yoga anything. Rachael pours oil over them both and slides behind them and Dean is surrounded by lithe, slippery limbs and firm breasts. The girls know all the parts to stimulate and he's hard again before he can work out who's fucking their tongue into his mouth and who is nibbling at his stomach. Kara rides him this time, her sinuous hips rolling and twisting and Rachael settles over his face, he tastes her, skilfully using his fingers in time with the thrust of his hips. Kara comes first and her moans push Rachael over the edge and he's not far behind.

He's young and fit and it's a good thing because blonde Natalie has short-cropped hair, huge blue eyes and legs that go on forever. She is apparently a manicurist, but Dean is prepared to bet serious amounts of money that her normal clients don't get to see what is hidden in the second layer of her manicure box. When she lifts out the top tray his eyes go all wide and green and the skin of his flat belly trembles beneath Rachael's caressing fingers.

Within seconds the floor is a sea of fluffy towels and cushions, the lights are dimmed further and clouds of incense fill the air. Natalie slides her tongue into his mouth and the intensity of the kiss has him half hard again before Kara even starts sucking and biting at his neck. It is all pain and pleasure as Rachael takes him in her mouth again, and his balls tighten and throb and his hips start to roll. He's just settling into a rhythm, fucking up into that hot mouth, when suddenly it's gone. Natalie slides away too, pulling something out of that amazing second tray and Rachael takes her place at his mouth.

Natalie can do things with her tongue he's never even dreamed of before and soon he's so hard it hurts. He throws a willing Kara on her back on the fluffy towels and lowers himself over her, his muscles slick with oil and sweat. He slides inside and begins to thrust, long and slow. Rachael slips a hand between them and Kara whimpers, writhing and coming in long eye rolling spasms. He rolls clear and finds Natalie bent over on her knees, looking at him teasingly over her shoulder. He rams himself deep inside, fucking frantically as Rachael bites his neck and shoulders, rubbing her breasts against the taut skin of his back. Natalie orgasms intensely and he almost follows but she pulls away and pushes him to Rachael who bends over obligingly. Almost blind with lust he drives into her between the firm cheeks and then it happens… Natalie slides an oily finger into his ass and then something from out of her hidden adult-rated tray. It hits a spot inside that just causes his belly to catch fire and he can hear himself cry out. Suddenly there's no control at all and he starts to rut hard, the force of his thrusts slapping him against Rachael's ass. Natalie is doing something behind him that is blowing his mind and Kara sits on Rachael's back, facing him and starts to tongue his mouth again. Natalie twists her toy and bites his ass and Dean feels it coming up from his very core. He feels Rachael shuddering around him as Kara fingers herself to moaning completion in front of his face. Natalie releases with a cry behind him, driving her fingers deep and Dean comes so hard he sees stars, a great grinding, throbbing moaning spasm that goes on and on until he finds himself sprawled on the floor in a tangle of oiled limbs. For a moment he wants to cry, it was so intense.

After a while they make it as far as the Jacuzzi. They soap each other gently and Dean realises the girls are very good friends indeed. They tease him until he comes again and it's so intense it hurts; he knows he has to escape or he might actually die fucking. He's dizzy and his legs are shaking when he gets dressed and heads out to his brother.

Sam is serene, having achieved a near-zen state of post-meditative bliss. He is reclining elegantly on the edge of a minimalist couch, gazing dreamily out at the lily pond and sipping at a green smoothie that strongly suggests snot to Dean.

"Sam! Hey, Sammy!" The good natured bellow startles Sam severely and he swings around, slopping lugie smoothie onto the pale wooden floor. A waft of lemongrass assaults Dean's nostrils as his brother rises to his feet; a tight little frown appearing on his face, marring the serene expression.

"Dean!" he hisses. "Sshh."

Dean does not look serene. He looks as though he's been electrocuted. Sam wonders what treatment in this place of tranquillity could possibly have caused his brother's hair to stand so wildly on end. His eyes look a little glassy as he grins goofily at Sam, who is hoping the darkening shadows and red marks on Dean's throat are the result of some rare eastern treatment and not the after effects of a hickie-addicted chick.

"Sam, this place is awesome. You would not believe what those chicks can do!" Dean's voice is far too loud and the hip movement and gesture accompanying the words leaves no doubt in anyone's mind about the sort of treatment he's been enjoying.

"You didn't!" Sam hisses. "Not with the masseuse?"

"Both of them Sammy. That manicurist, dude she was wild when she made it a foursome. It was like being in a ball of oiled rattlesnakes... Sam? Sam! Dude? Hey, wait for me!"

Dean follows his brother through the wildly rotating door, wondering what happened to all the smooth transition crap.  
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Thanks for stopping by! Kudos/comments are welcomed!


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